Imbroglio's Touch
by Keiko Reine Frost
Summary: 'The inscription says Rachel, but it feels like a lie.' This has been done a million times, but it is my turn to do that too. JakeXCassie, CassieXRonnie-strange ending. Not my best work, I'll admit.


**(Me): Hey, everyone! I felt like doing a one-shot for once. Tell me what you think. (This is going to be weird…normally I write pathetic attempts at humor and action…Yeah, I know a million people do this one-shot, but I have to start somewhere, right?)**

The inscription says Rachel, but it feels like a lie. It goes on to mention her as a daughter, a sister, a friend, and an Animorph. That last word didn't hold the same thing as the title had used. For Rachel, it meant that she had obeyed me through thick and thin, through the moral, emotional, and physical battles. It meant she never gave up when it seemed the Yeerks held all the cards. It means even more than that though.

The word 'Animorph' on her tombstone means that she had obeyed my order, and for that, she had died. That it was my fault entirely. It was useless to blame anyone but myself now, and everybody knew that…especially me.

My name is Jake Berenson. You remember reading all those records of that miserable Yeerk War we Animorphs fought? Yeah, I remember living _and_ writing those. I tried to continue after the war ended, but it had lost meaning after Rachel's death.

I mean, who would want to read a story written by a murderer, especially someone who murdered their own cousin?

I placed the flowers down slowly, as if the yellow petals were too fragile to be moved any other way. When I couldn't bare it any longer, I looked away from my cousin's tombstone and stared up at the sky. It looked like a sea of contrasts, in my opinion. The clouds were light gray on the inside, but they were darkened here and there, some more than others. The coloring was blue where the sky peaked out of certain spots in the massive swarm of gray and silver clouds.

"The forecast said it would probably start raining by tomorrow." A normally sweet and soothing voice said. For me, the voice was a scar that still stung. My face still hidden from her, I winced and faced down at the grass to the right of the tombstone.

"Jake, what's wrong?" Cassie asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm standing beside my cousin's tombstone, Cassie." I replied angrily. "Of course I'm not okay." I felt her hand, her warmth on my shoulder. She was trying to be comforting, I knew. She was trying to help me cope with the pain. For a still minute, I just wanted to stand there and be comforted. The breeze was close to silent through the healthy green trees that bordered the cemetery. It was a funny thing: a place so full of death and losses had so much life inside of the flora. It made me upset in a way; didn't they know that no matter how much life they put beside the graves wouldn't change a thing?

I stared down at the flowers that I had placed on the emerald grass over my shoulder and trembled a bit, overwhelmed with my foolishness. Didn't _I_ know by now that that wouldn't change a thing? I squeezed my eyes shut and listened to the distant sounds of Cassie's soft breathing. Why Rachel? Why did Rachel, Rachel with such a strong take on life, have to die? Why her?

_You know why, Jake. _An inward voice that could've been mine whispered. _She died because you put in the situation that you knew would kill her._ I tightened my fists at my sides. Rachel hadn't wanted to die, I knew, but she was the only one I could trust to do it. Why…why didn't I do it? I should've…I should've known it would be unbearable to live with the pain, this gaping wound, of guilt.

I…I couldn't change the facts. Rachel was dead; she was gone. No one was going to bring her back. Not a clone, not a morph, not Crayak and not the Ellimist. It was bitter: after having the power to save the world, I didn't have the power to save my cousin.

Or…had I had it? Had I thrown it away…?

Cassie's hand was still against my shoulder, moving in a short diagonal line back and forth. I opened my eyes and turned around to face her, brushing her hand away. Cassie looked up at me. Her eyes were sad and mournful, but she wasn't crying. She wrapped her hands around herself; obviously it was cold outside. The only cold I could feel was inside of me. For a minute I was so swept with rage I couldn't speak. "W-why?" I demanded breathlessly.

Cassie's brown eyes searched my face. "What do you mean?"

"Is Ronnie waiting in the car?" I snarled. "I wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

Cassie stared at me, shock lighting up her face. "Jake!" She gasped. "I'm here to visit Rachel as a friend." She paused and hesitatingly reached down for my hand with both palms. "I want to be here as a friend for you too, Jake." She said softly.

I jerked my hand away and took a step back toward another grave. "When I needed you, you weren't there." I replied quietly, staring down at a point by Cassie's knees. Her legs moved as she came closer.

"Jake," She said gently as she reached for my hands again. "I was there. You just pushed me away…you pushed all of us away." I looked away to the side and stared at the lively grass blowing softly in the wind. Why weren't cemeteries just dirt and deadened trees? It would've made far more sense than the healthy green grass and leaves.

I knew why they didn't appear as depressing as they were. People wanted to remember the dead in a nice light, a kind, and loving, warm light. I couldn't do that. How many people that came to look at the deceased's graves could point at the tombstone and say, "That person there? I helped cause their death. It was my fault."?

At first I thought the forecast had come early, and that a raindrop had fallen. That was stupid though. The raindrop that had slithered silently down my face had been a teardrop from my eye. It wasn't much of a surprise to be crying, I thought as I wiped the tear away with my jacket sleeve. This was a cemetery, after all: people cried hear almost every day.

I finally took a deep breath and looked back at Cassie, who was still waiting for my reaction. "Cassie, I've never been good at accepting defeat gracefully." I told her softly, releasing her hands back at her sides. "I can't accept 'just friends'. I'm sorry." I wondered dismally if another tear would fall on my face. None came.

The tears appeared on the edges of Cassie's eyes. "Are—are you sure?" She said softly, fighting back a sob into her tan sleeve she had pressed against her face. I let her words sink in meaninglessly and at last nodded.

"Ronnie is probably waiting." I said at last. Another sob broke on her face, and the tears spilled instantly out of her sad, sad brown eyes. Confused but softened, I allowed her to pull me into a hug. For what felt like an eternity, I was enveloped in her saddened warmth. I hastily let go of her shoulders that I had had my hands resting on earlier. I didn't want to see Cassie's sobbing face anymore. I turned down to the right to stare at Rachel's well-polished tombstone. The surface was pebbly and smooth, with gray engraved words that read the inscription:

Here Lies:

RACHEL _________

A Wonderful Daughter

A Loving Sister

A Loyal Friend

An Animorph

I closed my eyes to shut out the painful words, but the mind's eye's memory was still vivid even beneath my eyelids. They hadn't needed an adjective for Animorph, I thought bitterly. It said all that was needed in that one word. I felt another drop of moisture on my face and pulled away again from Cassie. Suddenly I just didn't have the energy to mourn anymore. At least, not the energy for today. Tomorrow I would wake up, get dressed, and be struck with the same horror. It was a day-by-day process.

Opening my eyes again, I stared down at Cassie's hair. It was bunched up in the middle but rushed, as if she had ran out of a meaning for styling her hair that day. She had never been fashion-conscious, but she always looked decent in my opinion. I stared down at her for a moment. "Cassie, I…" I swallowed, and remembered an old memory of Cassie and Ronnie beside each other, holding hands and giggling to each other. In a way, they were perfectly together. They were jigsaw pieces bent just for each other. I took a breath and pulled her away, keeping a few steps back just in case. "I don't want to make this hard for you and Ronnie." I said softly, very gently brushing a lock of hair out her tearstained face. "I'm...Rachel's death is still…still something I have to face—alone." I stared at her, waiting for a reaction.

Cassie was taking a couple of those sobbing gasps people make when they cry too hard. "Death…is easier—to face…together." She managed to say between sobs. "Please, Jake. Death of a loved one is always a scar, a flesh wound, but we have to get past it to—to move o-on." Her watery eyes stared at me. "Please." She sobbed. "I can't face death alone again."

So badly, I wanted to hold her and cradle her and tell her it would all be all right. Like the good old days, we would be united and fight together. I so badly wanted to tell her this, so badly wanted to hug her and ignore pain and the world, but the loss of Rachel wasn't the only flesh wound I suffered. Cassie and I hadn't had our happily ever after, and probably never would. I was beginning to understand—and almost _accept_—that a person like me, full of bitterness and regret, never would have one. That didn't make me want Cassie not to have one, though. As much as it pained me, as much as it made me want to fight it with all of my weary strength, Ronnie could give her that happily ever after.

I stared down at Cassie again. "You have Ronnie." I said softly, drawing out my breath slowly. Cassie fell to the grass, sniffling and trembling. That was when I noticed the newly made gravestone beside Rachel's.

I stared at it in complete shock for a moment, but natural instinct drew me to Cassie. I bent down and hugged her as tightly as I could as she cried into my shoulder. "I can't face…it alone." She whimpered to me. I stroked her back comfortingly, promising the memories of the two gravestones' occupants that I would protect and comfort Cassie. I'd deal and accept my scars with her. She wouldn't be alone…I wouldn't let her deal against that storm alone.

"I love you." I whispered hoarsely, and heard her cry louder, her tears spilling out of her and onto my jacket once more. I held her still as I read the glass and stone tombstone beside the hero that won us the war.

In Memory Of

RONNIE CHAMBERS

A Wonderful Son

A Loving Brother

A True Friend

**(Me): *0.0* That certainly didn't turn out as expected. Call me cheesy and pathetic—and moronic, but hey, my first one-shot, give me a break. Reviews are kindly loved and appreciated. Any questions you have, I'll be glad to answer. :) **


End file.
